


The Rumor

by Name1



Series: Moving Forward [6]
Category: Star Wars, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Cara's gorgeous breasts-TM, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Finally a few minutes alone, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn, yay! I figured out chapters!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22887643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Din Felt like he wasn’t in control of his mouth as the fear of losing her that day washed over him. He should have said this long before. “Cara, you know that I value you, don't you? I feel like it goes unsaid, but maybe it shouldn't. I don't tell you how much you contribute to the life we’re living and how integral you are to it."
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Moving Forward [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648918
Comments: 38
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. Thanks for sticking with me!  
> Hope you enjoy. It's way too long, but I have no ability to edit down it appears.  
> If mild sexy time is not your cup of tea, skip over the first part. 
> 
> Less flashbacks than the last one, so yay?

Their usual sleeping arrangements have changed. They no longer sleep separately, only sharing a bunk when they find or invent a reason. Instead, Cara’s old bunk now lays empty, rapidly becoming an auxiliary storage area. There are boxes there now and various spare parts for weapons repair and maintenance. Its previous inhabitant has found a better place to sleep, warmer and infinitely more comfortable. The heat Din puts out when he sleeps is a sight to behold. The cot itself is way too small to fit two adults plus one adorable kid, but that’s why it’s become their favorite place on the whole ship. It’s too small for them to stretch out comfortably, so they have to wrap themselves in each other to fit the space.

The room is always dark, and they get to press their faces together in a way they can only dream about everywhere else. The kid has taken to sleeping at their heads, spread out over their shared pillow like a starfish. He finds comfort in the smell and texture of their hair and the sounds of their breathing. That’s also becoming a problem, since even the slightest hitch or increase in their breathing has him awake and alert.

Din’s favorite time of day is the morning, where Cara is warm, content, and exceedingly amorous. They fall asleep in one of two ways. In the first, he wraps his arms around her from behind, her bare back pressed against his warm chest. He loves to bury his face in her hair so nothing could be sweeter. His entire body fits into the gaps hers provides and he couldn’t have more contact with her body if he tried. The only problem is he can’t feel her face against his. She casually slides her foot in between his legs to nestle them closer together and even her slightest stretch in the morning has him instantly aching for her.

Their other sleeping position consists of Cara sprawled over him with her face resting in the hollow beneath his shoulder and clavicle. With her chest pressed against his, he can kiss her temple and brush her hair away from her face to wake her in the morning. The only way it could be any better was if he could see her face, but the darkness is the only way they can be this close. It was _her_ favorite position, since when she laid like this her hand was free to roam over his chest. Neither of them wore a shirt to bed anymore, too dependent and grateful on the skin to skin contact. They would strip down to their shorts in the darkness and climb into bed like this was something they had always done. After the first time, when the power blew, they never discussed sharing his bed, they just never slept apart again. It was as simple as that. 

Cara liked to trace her hand through the smattering of hair he had on his chest, seemingly intrigued by its texture. She also realized she had a thing for his facial hair. She would rub her hands over his stubble, and even rub her smooth cheeks across his course hair- marking him as hers the only way she could. The rough feeling of it against her smooth skin was something she couldn’t get enough of. When she first woke, the warm leg she had thrown across his hips would slide across his bare legs, as she shifted and got comfortable. He would almost always let out a groan that would trigger her hand to explore his warm torso. She reveled in the noises her movements elicited from him, and a deep passionate kiss was his reward. The warm, wet slide of her tongue was enough to make him go from zero to begging in 0.2 seconds.

Desperate for a few minutes alone, the previous night they placed Bean’s carrier on the ground right outside the curtain that separated the bunk from the main hold. Around him, they placed all of his favorite toys and even a collection of snacks he was particularly fond of. They would admit they were shamelessly bribing him and trying to keep him distracted at the same time.

As soon as Din felt her stir, he ran his hand through her tousled hair. He knew the feel by heart. The room was pitch black, but the way he had thoroughly mapped her body, he could see her perfectly in his mind. She woke up slowly, and ran her hand across his chest, before running it up through his hair. She loved running her hands through his hair, feeling the curls at the end wrap around her fingers.

He was waiting for her mouth when she tipped her face up toward his and she let out a pleased sound when he kissed her hard, pushing her back into the pillow. She ran her leg up his, seeking some sort of friction. When she couldn’t get what she was after, she trapped one of his thighs between her legs and started rubbing against him in a way that made his breath stutter. She started grinding her hips against his leg, rolling against him over and over again, the whole time her mouth taking everything he had to give. Their kiss turned messy and wet as they rapidly lost control of themselves.

She was getting frustrated. It just wasn’t enough -he was driving her insane. The feel of his mouth, the smooth skin of his chest, his stubble against her chin, and the thick muscle of his leg between hers were all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Please….. Din,” she begged, her pride totally out of the equation at this point. She was desperate, arching against him clumsily now, trying so hard to get friction where she needed it.

“Please Din…..

“please ….

“please…..,” she was gasping against his mouth over and over. Her words were barely more than breathless pleading now, making him dizzy with desire. He clutched a handful of her thick hair in one hand and flipped them over, so he pressed her into the mattress, his full weight moving against her. Her legs fell apart as they fell into the most natural position for lovers, yet still a relatively new one for them. His hips were moving against her without his brain sanctioning their actions. He felt like he was outside of his body at this point, an outside observer almost. He was pressed right up against her sensitized flesh, where she had wanted him for ages, and he started rock against her; the rolling rhythm, the give and take of his body against hers, made her arch and squirm under him. She could feel him, hard and insistent against her. She had never been so turned on in her life. Her mouth was devouring him, and he was devouring her.

He gripped her bare thigh with one hand to hold her steady as he ground down against her harder. She broke their kiss with a choked gasp like he had never heard from her before and she pulled his mouth down to her breasts. He knew by now exactly what she liked. He kissed down her chest, squeezing her soft flesh with his hand as his mouth laid blazing kisses everywhere he could reach, every inch of her soft breasts that molded so beautifully to his hands. He let his patchy beard rub against her like he knew drove her wild. He tipped his mouth down and raked his tongue against her sensitive nipple and she almost arched off the bed. 

He was rubbing against her with so much friction he was worried he might hurt her. She was egging him on, reaching down to grab greedy handfuls of his ass to grind back against him just as eagerly. She was meeting his every push and pull, and her movements were getting more and more aggressive and increasingly unfocused at the same time.

She didn’t let up, wouldn’t give him even a second to catch his breath. After his tongue slid against her sensitive flesh again, he felt her whole body tighten against his; her muscles were so strong. She was as taunt as a bowstring and it wouldn’t take much to send her over the edge. She might die if they didn’t see this through this time.

“Please Din,” she begged again. “Please let me….just…..… don’t you dare stop”, her words barely more than broken sounds between her gasps at this point. He had never heard her this desperate before, not even in his most fervent dreams. She threw her head back, her mouth open; she was so close, her hands locked in his hair to keep him where she needed him. He answered her with his wet tongue raking across her nipple again. When his mouth sealed around her and sucked, she fell apart with a violent shake that went through her whole body, letting out a sobbing cry that instantly took him over the edge, shuddering against her. It hit him so hard and fast he was unable to stop it even if he wanted to. He kissed her panting mouth as she stopped shaking and turned completely boneless against him. 

He thought maybe he had died. _Was he dead?_ Maybe he had an aneurysm; that would explain the blinding spots behind his eyelids and his brain refusing to communicate with his body. Blood was rushing in his ears like white noise, but he focused on her heavy breathing instead as she tried to catch her breath. _Good morning indeed. I guess the toys and snacks worked._

“Holy shit,” she breathed, when she could get air back into her lungs. He would remember that lilt in her voice for the rest of his days.

“That’s two more words than I can string together right now,” he managed to get across to her. He thought he might pass out.

“Holy shit,” she repeated. She had been reduced to just those two words. _He was going to be so damned smug about it later, she just knew it._

“I think you killed me,” he said in a serious tone she thought was hilarious.

“You sure do complain a lot for someone in your _position_ ,” she said as she found the strength to rock against him again, earning a hiss through his teeth.

“No more, ahh!” he yelped as he jerked backwards, “too sensitive.” He pulled himself off her, laid on his side, and took her into his arms.

“I hear Bean babbling to himself out there,” she says reluctantly. 

“How can you hear anything at all?” he asks over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

She laughs, “I’ll go get him. He’s been more than patient. Take a few minutes. The towel from my shower last night is at the foot of the bed if you want it.”

“I’ll be out there in a minute,” he said as his voice evened out. She wasn’t convinced. He sounded like he was seconds from falling asleep again. She wished for a just a second that she could see him like this.

He could hear her damn smirk even through his exhaustion. “Why don’t you just lay here and look pretty? Now that I know _that_ is on the table, I’m expecting round two after I get him breakfast”.

He chokes out a desperate laugh, “It would literally kill me, Cara. Then you’d have to explain to the kid how it happened.”

“Okay,” she says smiling. “Rain check then?” she suggests. She’s sleepy and satisfied in a way she can’t ever remember being. She would like nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him, but the kid needs supervision. She leaned down to kiss him but missed him slightly in the pitch blackness and got the corner of his mouth instead. She placed his helmet next to his leg at the foot of the bed so he could turn the lights on when he was ready, grabbed a shirt and walked out into the dark of the main cabin. She’d let him grab a quick nap if he needed it, she was generous like that. They had a lot of things to do today; flight plans to finalize, supply run to plan, and full time Bean-wrangling.

They end up eating breakfast together almost 2 hours later. The kid was uncharacteristically grumpy, his little wrinkled forehead more creased than usual. He kept giving them this _look_. He didn’t seem to be happy about waking up outside of their bunk and not draped across their pillow. He kept looking back and forth between the two of them with this knowing glare, that made Cara feel like she was a kid who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Sorry little guy,” she placated him and picked him up to sit him in her lap while she fed him some sweet-flavored grain mash. He seemed to accept her apology and ripped the spoon out of her grip several times in his enthusiasm to stuff his face. Now that he was eating such healthy regular meals and with such voracity, they wondered if they should try to limit his portions. How much should someone of his size be eating per day anyway? He loved his food so much though, his whole face lit up when she even pulled out his chair at the table now. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was enough to send him scurrying across the floor as fast as his little legs could waddle. They didn’t have the heart to try limiting his portions, even it meant he got a little pudgier around the middle due to his lack of self-control. She continued to comfort him, “you poor little Bean, did you wake up all alone? Don’t worry, it’s not a regular thing. You can sleep with us whenever you want.”

She heard Din snort from across the table. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh, give me a break, you spoil him way more than I do.”

“Maybe I do. Nothing wrong with that, he’s just a baby. That said, it doesn’t mean we don’t need 5 minutes to ourselves every once in a while.”

She leans forward resting her elbows on the table to get her face closer to him. “Only 5 minutes? You going for a personal best or you want to make it a race? I could get behind that” The heat behind her smirk should be illegal.

“Shut up,” he laughs. His face is still too warm from thinking about this morning, not to mention the teasing grin creeping up her lips, to talk about this right now.

…………………

A week later they are sitting in almost the same positions around the common table. After breakfast, full and happy, the kid raises his arms and Cara indulges him as she picks him up to start clearing the table. Din loves watching how good she is with him and how he gravitates to her. _What was it even like before this, before her?_

“So, what’s on the schedule today?” she asks Din, even though she has a pretty good idea. He’s been uneasy about it whenever the topic arises. He said before that he’s meeting a contact, but nothing more than that. She trusts him and doesn’t want to pry, but she _is_ curious, nonetheless.

“We’re touching down on MX14 today.”

“What exactly is supposed to be there? It seems pretty out of the way.”

“We’re running out of leads for these Jedi we’re supposed to be finding. There might be a lead there. There used to be someone I knew who spoke of such things. I’m going to see if he’s still alive and living at his old address.”

He seems tense. She’s not sure what he’s not telling her.

“I’ll be right back.” She carries Bean across the room to place him in their bunk, gives him a pile of toys, and closes the curtain.

“I didn’t want him listening to this conversation,” she says in way of explanation.

She walks over to him and takes his hand. “I know you’re on edge. I hate to bring this up, but I have to, it’s eating away at me and we don’t keep secrets from each other.” He nods, like he wants her to continue so she does after taking a deep breath.

“Are you _absolutely_ sure you want to continue searching for these Jedi, these people he’s supposed to be one of? Look, I get it -I really do,” she says hurriedly, afraid he might misunderstand her before she can explain herself. This is a delicate subject and she has never been delicate a day in her life. _She’s going to fuck this up so bad_. “You want to find his family if they’re out there, but ……….”

She starts again, frustrated with how poorly she’s explaining this, “damnit Din, _we’re_ his family. You and me. Say you find these mysterious people, then what? You’re just going to turn him over to them and walk away? Just because he shares genetic similarity to them doesn’t mean they’re his family. They don’t hold him when he’s scared. He doesn’t cuddle up in their arms when he wants to go to sleep. They don’t change his clothes when he pukes after eating too many cookies. They don’t know all of his favorite toys and where he likes to hide them.”

He sighs and starts in patiently, like he’s thought about this more than once, “I get where you’re coming from, I do. I stay up at night thinking about what I’d actually do if we’re successful.”

“I know you do.” She instantly feels guilty. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to insinuate you don’t take this seriously or that you haven’t thought about all the possible outcomes. I just. …..,” she’s not sure how to finish that thought; she feels weak and exposed just thinking it. “I just don’t want to give him away. He’s ours, we fought for him, you even more than me. Don’t ask me to blindly give him away. I don’t think I _can_.”

“I know,” he says solemnly, giving her hand a squeeze in return. “Honestly, I hope we _don’t_ find them, but we have to try. We owe it to him to give it everything we have in case there’s a family out there looking for him. He’s depending on us to act in his best interest until he can make decisions for himself. I can't live with myself if I don't do everything I possibly can, everything within my power to try to help him find people who can help him, can give him guidance if he needs it.

“ _We_ can give him that, we _are_ giving him that” she feels the argument jump from her mouth before she can stop it. She cuts herself off abruptly. “Look, I know you're right, _I do_. I just can't imagine giving him up. I _know_ I'm being selfish, but how can anyone else love him as much as we do? What exactly can they give him that we can’t?”

“This isn’t a decision either of us is making lightly. For our sanity, we can table this conversation for now- nothing is happening fast, and I would never make a decision like this without your input. Right now, he’s here with us and he’s safe. We’re not just giving him away, no matter who we find. I can promise you that. That’s not something you need to lose sleep over. It won’t happen, I swear to you.”

The grave sincerity in his voice assured her he was telling the truth. They joked and they teased all the time, but serious conversations were few and far between. When they _did_ have them, the occasion was taken seriously by them both. Neither of them were great at talking about things that really mattered, but they were getting better as they grew closer to one another. The trust they had built between them made it easier to talk about almost anything, no matter the gravity. The only exception were discussions about their _feelings_ \- _Cara wanted to dry heave just thinking about it_ \- they both avoided that one like the plague. They both had forced that vulnerable side of themselves so far down, it was taking time to allow it back to the surface. They were making progress for sure, but they were both afraid of misspeaking and accidentally sending this delicate relationship off balance. It was a work in progress for sure. The feelings were there, of that they had no doubt, it was the words that remained elusive.

_Words were cheap anyway, their actions said everything they voices couldn’t._

“Thank you for saying it out loud. I believe you, I’m just being an idiot.”

“I needed to say it for myself too. He’s not going anywhere, but if we can learn more about his people, their lifespan, their customs, anything that we could pass on to him, it would be worth it to share with him, wouldn’t it? I always wondered where I came from, what my people’s customs and beliefs were, and I don’t want that for him. He deserves everything. And you aren’t an idiot, you just care about him, I do too.”

Cara nods and takes a deep breath.

“Ok, he’s staying with us then,” she says to herself more than him, “this search is for us to help him know his history, not to find another home for him.”

“Good, I can do that,” she finally smiles for the first time since this serious conversation began, “I’m pretty attached to that grumpy wrinkled forehead by now.”

“And don’t forget the ears,” Din adds in helpfully.

“That obviously goes without saying.”

When she goes to retrieve Bean, she squeezes his tiny body just a little tighter before handing him to Din. If he squeezes him a little tighter too, she doesn’t mention it.

………………….

So, tell me more about this contact we’re supposed to meet.

He’s an old friend; the oldest one I have, I guess. He’s always had an ear to the political sphere as well as the Guild black market business circle. I’ve just always trusted him, ever since I can remember.

He huffs out a laugh as he thinks about what he just said, “I guess that’s not the best reason to trust him now, but he’s never betrayed me before.”

“Look, you don’t have to sell him to me or defend your trust in him. You trust him so I’ll trust him-simple as that. He crosses you though…..well, that’s another story.”

“He and my Buir, _my Mandalorian Father_ , grew up together. They were brothers by Creed, which is more important than blood. He no longer wears the helmet though, hasn’t for years now. I’ve known him since I was just a little boy. My Buir always trusted him so I did too. I haven’t seen him in years, but I have no reason to think he’d betray me now.”

“Is your _bieer_ still alive?” she asked ignoring Din’s amused chuckle at her horrible mispronunciation. _That little shit._ _Like she ever had any motivation to learn another elusive language before meeting him._

It’s B _ui_ r, and no. He died when I was in my 20s. Buir can mean either "mother" or "father" though if we’re having a linguistics lesson. Mando'a is a gender-neutral language, which makes it unusual. Gender is implied by the context of what you’re trying to say. I know it’s not an easy language to learn so thank you for trying to pick up even a couple of words. Do you know what your name means in my language?”

“It sounds kind of like the word for “stars”, but the ‘ka’ sound is harsher than the ‘ca’ sound of my name, so it’s only the best approximation,” she finishes feeling pretty damned smug if she says so herself. She can’t see through the visor or metal of his helmet, but she imagines his mouth is open.

“That’s,” Din starts, then stops…….. “That’s actually right.” _Really right_. _Too right for a lucky guess._ “How do you _know_ that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said walking around him like she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary.

He did want to know. _Who could have possibly told her that?_

Just to drive him crazy, she easily changes the subject, “so when are we leaving to head into town?” she asks as she picks up a blaster to slip into her boot holster.

He hesitates. _She’s going to be so mad._ “Actually. I think it would be better if I went alone and you stayed here with Bean this time.”

She stops moving half bent over her boot and looks up at him, turning her head slowly.

“Excuse me?” she says, her tone proceeding into dangerous territory. “Are you trying to say I should be a babysitter instead of your second? Here’s a helpful hint because I like you: think _very_ carefully about the next words that come out of your mouth.”

“You are absolutely not his babysitter, you're his guardian, his parent. It’s not _that_. You know I always want us to work side by side, but this is different. Before you get angry, I have several reasons.”

“Was it what happened at the bar? My shoulder is completely healed, that was a freak occurrence.”

“No, of course not,” Din counters.

“-The card game that went bad? Look, I have my temper under control. I won’t fly off the handle again- But for the record, that asshole was cheating!”

“No, that has nothing to do with it, and I know he was cheating. He needed lessons though, it was a pitiful attempt at best. I could hustle a game of cards better than that when I was 10.”

“Was it what happened at the outpost? That was weeks ago. We’re all fine.”

He visibly flinches and she feels bad for saying that out loud. He’s still gun shy about them being separated during a job after that horrible day. He’s been different since then, like he was forced to remember they were mortal and couldn’t seem to forget it ever since.

Din feels his hands get cold as his chest gets hot. He can feel his neck getting tense. The feelings of anger and hatred flare up as real as they did in that terrible moment before he snapped and went on a killing spree through the compound. The familiar cold sense of dread, loss, and emptiness he felt that day swallows him up for a minute before he manages to bring himself back to the present, Cara staring at him expectedly.

She must have noticed the tenseness in his body, because she then asks, “Hey, you okay?”

Din Felt like he wasn’t in control of his mouth as the fear of losing her that day washed over him. _He should have said this long before._ “Cara, you _know_ that I value you, don't you? I feel like it goes unsaid, but maybe it shouldn't. I don't tell you how much you contribute to the life we’re living and how integral you are to it.

“It’s not that I don't think you can hold your own in a fight, that's absolutely absurd. We've just gotten lucky so many times now. Every time we disembark and leave the kid behind, I can't help but think about what happens if we don't make it back. We need a better contingency plan in case the worst should happen. One of us has to be alive to take care of him, meaning that one of us should work at a time, the other one taking the role of his guardian. If we have to hunt together, the kid comes with us. If we're both killed and he’s on the Crest, he can't even lower the ramp on his own to get food.

“Look, I _more_ than value you; I respect you. I need you, and more than that, I _want_ you by my side. There’s not a person alive I’d rather have beside me when the shit hits the fan, _no one_. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You're important to me. You're more than just my.... _partner_. That word feels totally inadequate ....you're _everything_. You know that right?”

She’s just staring at him wide-eyed, like he sprouted another head. Her complete surprise at what he’s saying confirms that he’ hasn’t done a good job of telling her what her presence means to him. They’re both crap at talking about feelings. He almost wants to laugh, despite the seriousness of what he’s trying to tell her, when he sees the panic on her face as his words, _his feelings_ , register. Cara is the bravest person he’s ever met, and this may be the first time he’s ever seen anything even approaching fear on her beautiful face.

“I trust your ability and I’ve never come across a better fighter. I depend on your level head and I adore your mind for strategy. I envy your patience, your protective streak, your ability to take charge of the situation, your resilience and even your stubbornness. Your resolve in what you believe is right…”

It’s like a flood gate had opened up. Once he started telling her why he adored her he simply couldn’t stop. He felt helpless, but the best kind of helpless, like he could finally say what he wanted without floundering over his words. He’d always been absolute shit at expressing himself, especially around her, but this rush he was feeling made it effortless.

“More than that….,” he hesitated here, then decided to continue, “what we've created between us it’s.......it’s the bes-”

“Din stop! That’s more than enough! What’s gotten into you? We agreed to never talk about _feelings_ , not unless we’re both drunk or one of us dying!”

She runs both hands through her hair and tugs hard “You can’t just say shit like that without any warning….. fuck! I don’t even know what say to that, I’m not prepared at all!” she sounded panicked, “I know you care for me, that you value me. You don’t have give a full-on speech. You show it with your actions, that’s what matters.”

She then goes from panicked to just…..sad. He wants to remove that look from her face at all costs.

She’s resigned when she continues, “I’m terrible with words, I know you’ve figured that out by now. I have no clue what I’m supposed to say in return…. and it’s not fair to you….. I’m just going to ruin it and say something defensive and stupid.” 

“I’m not trying to put you on the spot. I have never once thought of you as a babysitter, I just wanted you to know that. I also wanted to tell you why I think it’s better for one of us to work at a time for a while, but I can see that’s not acceptable long-term for you, I get that. We’ll have a better discussion about our options for partner work and what it means for the kid going forward, after I meet with this contact today, I promise. Today though, _just today_ can you humor me?”

He sighs, before he continues “Look, this place I’m going is a shithole. The natives, they’re a patriarchal society, they don’t even allow women to be seen in public.” _He knew how to get this conversation back into safe territory._ He looked her up and down slowly being overtly obvious in his perusal, watching the grin spread across her face. With the helmet on, he has to make his head rise and fall in such an exaggerated way for the movement to translate, it must be funny from her point of view.

“What? I can _totally_ pass as a man.”

“No, you most definitely _can’t_ ,” the leer almost audible in his voice. He can see the beginning of a smile starting to form on her face.

“Furthermore, they like to shoot first, ask questions later. They have no love for Mandalorians either, and I’m more bullet proof than you are.”

“Wait, you’re telling me you’re going alone and then you say they’re going to shoot at you? Are you crazy? I thought you were supposed to be selling me on this?!”

“Forget I just said that last part. Bottom-line: I need to go alone to talk with Ja’ar today, just today. He’s family in a weird way. I need to trust him and to do that I need him to trust me. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him and I need to make him feel like I’m coming to him on equal ground, not jumping him with armed backup at the ready.”

“Just today then, then we come up with a long-term solution we can both live with” she agrees calmly. “And Din, don’t you dare get shot.”

“I won’t.”

“You better not, or I’m going to be so pissed.” He can see her look of indignation already. _She’s so hot when she’s pissed off._

………………………..

She knows Din’s about to get dressed to go in search of his contact. He’s still standing around in his jumpsuit in the meantime. She’s become so used to seeing him in his soft regular clothes while living together, she’s almost forgotten how moved she was the first time she saw him in clothing and not Beskar. His armor is such a part of himself that the first time she saw him standing in pants and a shirt still stands out to her.

*In the past*

It was on Sorgan the morning after they took down the AT-ST. He wasn’t on the porch when she woke up, so she went to knock on his door to check if he was ok. She wouldn’t put it past that stubborn idiot to hide an injury…Stupid men and their stupid pride.

She heard his “come in” and she peeked her head in only to be surprised by the back of someone else. This man was wearing ill-fitting common clothes and stood barefoot in the middle of the room. His ankles and calves were visible due to the inappropriate length of those ridiculous pants. It wasn’t until her gaze fell on the helmet she realized it was….

“Oh shit!” she cried out and turned her back to him so fast she gave herself whiplash.

“Cara? What happened?”

“I’m so sorry, I saw you without your armor. I didn’t mean to, I thought I heard you say “come in” she said in a rush. “It was an accident, I really didn’t see anything, don’t worry……” She sounds more panicked to his ears at this moment than when she was less than 20 feet from a pair of armored guns the night before.

He looked down at himself and chuckled.

“Cara, it’s fine, really. It’s just the _helmet_ that has to stay on, the rest is just body armor like yours, it can come off. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She slowly turned around.

“That’s not what you usually wear under your armor.” The color was totally _wrong_ and the fit was laughable.

“You’re right, the jumpsuit was full of crustacean bits, it reeked to high hell. It’ll take at least a couple of washes before I even attempt to wear it again.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly, not used to feeling anything even close to resembling embarrassment. She too, was in ill-fitting clothes loaned from the villagers. It should have dawned on her…

“Okay then,” she said, “I hope your armor made it out okay.”

“Yeah, Beskar doesn’t rust, so it’s nothing a good polish won’t fix.”

She realized she was staring at him. She gathers her wits about her. “I didn’t mean to bother you, I just didn’t see you outside, wanted to make sure you didn’t die overnight from a stubbed toe or a hangnail or something.”

“Your confidence in me is truly inspiring,” Din says with mock offense. _Good, they were back to normal._

“What can I say, you don’t look too inspiring in that getup.” She was smiling as she said it.

“Just for the record, you look ridiculous too, Cara.” The humor in his voice softened the would-be blow.

He called her “Cara”. He didn’t call her Dune this time. It had happened before of course, but for some reason with the pair of them just standing there in soft linen clothes that didn’t fit at all, it hit her like a blow to the head.

She liked the way he said it. _What the hell was the matter with her?_

……………………………..

*Back in the present*

Cara is watching Din making his last-minute touches to his supplies. He’s meticulous about being prepared, another trait she shares with him. Getting ready to head out for business is always a stressful time. Din is fiddling with spooling up the wire that goes into his grappling device, so she begins to collect the pieces of his armor he discarded the last time he removed them. She moves his heavy chest and back plates to the main table before seeking out the smaller vambraces and gloves. Luckily the thigh and shoulder guards are stacked together near the weapons cabinet, so she doesn’t have to go far in search of them.

She grabs his thick padded shirt that’s lined with flame-resistant cloth and lays it over the back of her chair as she waits for him to finish. The flak vest is just on the other side of the table, easily in reach.

“Thank you,” he says when he notices her preparing for him to armor-up.

“No need to thank me. I’m going to sit here and watch, that’s reward enough.”

He huffs, “okay, sounds fair” as he moves to stand up.

He straightens his jumpsuit to make sure the seams are laying flay before he pulls the thick quilted material of his fire-retardant shirt over his head. He reaches behind his back to secure it, but Cara is already there, her hand moving up his back attaching the fasteners, like she had done this a hundred times before. The flak vest goes on next, and she ties down the straps in the back where he has to stretch to reach.

“I thought you were just going to watch.” He would never complain about her putting hands on him. He always found himself surprised when she reached for his helmet and he didn’t flinch in the slightest. This quiet time before heading out into the unknown was one of his favorite times. Both he and Cara were so calm, so focused during these moments. They fed off each other’s confidence, but it was never boastful or cocky. They worked damned hard to be prepared, to have good intel and the ability to adjust quickly when plans change. They discussed alternate routes of escape and evasive defensive maneuvers in the event they were pinned down. Even something as unlikely as weapons malfunction wasn’t off the table. They planned for it all. He admired her so.

She finished tying everything down and she’s just resting her hands on him now.

“Just watching is for losers, I changed my mind,” she pauses for dramatic effect “or maybe I just wanted to feel you up, take your pick.”

She walks around him again and smooth her hands down his now padded chest, tugging on the bottom seam to make sure it’s secure.

Next come the plates, both the ones that depend on magnetic anchoring and the ones that rely on buckles and clasps. He fastens his hip guards and holster belt, before swinging his favorite rifle over his shoulder.

“I still don’t like the thought of you going out alone, I just have to say it this one time, then I’m done. Who’s going to watch your back?”

“ _You_ are, you always watch my back. You have my back no matter where you are.” 

“And your front….you always forget about the front.”

She meticulously checks each piece of armor once it’s secure. She pulls on the corners of each piece held on magnetically and tugs at the straps and buckles for the rest. She thumps hard with her fist on the flat side of the plates and even gives his helmet a back-and-forth jiggle that makes him snort.

“Looks good,” she states proudly as she finishes her inspection, approving of the results. “I have to tell you, I do enjoy watching you get ready to go to work,” she says with a grin that isn’t totally convincing, but getting there. He’s become an expert at her grins, smirks, and beaming smiles; it’s a point of pride for him. He knows she’s not thrilled about staying behind today, but between the kid’s needs, the natives’ hostility toward women, and his contact’s jumpiness, there are enough reasons for her to stay that she agrees without _too_ much fuss. She doesn’t go easily though; he wouldn’t want it any other way. She makes him work for everything, but the reward far surpasses the effort. He’s not quite sure what he wouldn’t do for her at this point. There must be _something_ , but he can’t seem to pin it down.

She’s practical through and through, putting aside her own wants at the end of the day for the good of the team. _Family_ , his brain helpfully supplies as the superior word choice, but he can’t go there right now. He has to stay focused on the task at hand.

He wraps his now gloved hand around the back of her neck and presses his helmeted forehead to the softness of hers, pausing for a moment to enjoy the stillness. He knows this afternoon might suck, given his recent history of ordinary days going to shit, and this moment with Cara is what he needs to keep him grounded.

“Go on, dummy,” Cara says after he’s held on for _far_ longer than he ever has before.

“Get out of here before I become a sentimental idiot and ask you not to. Don’t you dare let me make an idiot of myself Din Djarin, get out of here already.” She’s smiling at him now, a real one. She can’t see it, but he smiles in response. He’s helpless on that front.

“I’ll be back before nightfall. I’ll check in like we agreed.”

“You better.”

They each put a second commlink on an auxiliary channel in their boot, a leftover consequence of the shitshow at the outpost.

He glances at her one last time. Her hair is still in such a state of disarray from their morning tussle under the blankets that he can’t even look at her without his face going instantly hot and the rest of him rapidly following suit. “Let me braid your hair for you before I go out.” Her shoulder was long healed, but she loved the feeling and intimacy of his hands in her hair too much to argue. She would much rather he do it anyway. He must have figured out why it was so important to her by now.

“You’re stalling, but I’m not going to argue with you, it must be a mess. The brush is in our bunk. Get ready to put your hands on me.”

“I’m always ready to put my hands on you.” He takes his gloves back off again and rests the rifle against the wall. _The way she said ‘our’ without thinking about it will stick with him for the rest of the day._

………………………….

He walks through the market, feeling like a completely different man from the last time he was here. He approaches the residence he’s looking for, the surrounding houses looking exactly as he remembers them. He knocks on the door and waits. His hand is twitching over the blaster still holstered at his hip, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice should a hostile answer the door instead of his old friend.

The door opens and there he is - his Buir’s brother. He looks older, maybe a little shorter than he remembers. Din’s not sure if it’s because he grew since he last saw him or because the old man doesn’t stand as tall as he used to.

“Din....?”

“Din Djarin?”

“Is that you, boy?” The familiar sound of his rough voice and the term of endearment he hasn’t heard in ages wash over him and he relaxes slightly.

“Yeah, Ja’ar it’s me. It’s good to see you. I hate to show up uninvited, but I could use your help. Can I come in for a minute?”

The older man holds open the door to allow Din to enter.

They sit down at the old wooden table away from the window, old habits die hard he guesses. “Not that it isn’t good to see you kid, but what in the seven hells brings you to my door?” He whistles low as he gets a good look at him, “look at all that Beskar, I’ll be damned. The Way must be treating you all right.”

“I’m hoping you have some knowledge of a species I’m trying to locate.”

“I know about lots of obscure species, but while you’re here, I got a great lead on an epic score I wanted to run by you. It’s so much money I’d be willing to go in 20/80 with you for old times’ sake if you pull it off….I’m too old to even attempt it by myself anymore.”

“That must be one _hell_ of a bounty, for you to come in so low before negotiating….I remember you being much less aggregable than that,” Din says fondly.

Din had to admit he was intrigued though. “Fine, I’ll bite,” he gives in as he asks, “Is it an object or a deliverable?”

_A high paying job would help them out as the smaller jobs trickled in. They weren’t hurting for money by any means, but it always paid to pad the coffers now and then when times were easy._

“It’s a _someone_ worth a shit-ton of credits, if you can manage to bring them in alive.”

Din’s heart sank as reality kicked in; he only knew of one ‘someone’ who was worth that kind of money; his soft fuzzy ears proportional to the size of the bounty on his head. He didn’t want to hear this. How could Ja’ar possibly know of the price on the kid?

_He had to deflect him. He didn't want to have to kill an old friend._

……………

Continues in chapter 2 :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever heard of this species before, I have a picture.” He pulls up an image on his personal holoscreen before cropping Cara mostly out of it. The image he turns around for Ja’ar to see is the small face of the kid, his large eyes the center of the image and his soft ears on display taking up the rest of the screen.  
> “By the stars, I haven’t seen one of his kind in ages.”  
> Din’s heart stops beating. “You know something about them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second chapter! Thanks for reading as always

Din’s heart sank as reality kicked in, he only knew of one ‘someone’ who was worth that kind of money; his soft ears proportional to the size of the bounty on him. He didn’t want to hear this. How could Ja’ar possibly know of the price on the kid’s head?

_He had to deflect him. He didn't want to have to kill an old friend._

_…………………………………._

“You and I both know that only kids carry a bounty that high. You know damned well I don't deal in kids, so I'm not interested. Next subject,” Din says hoping to move the conversation along.

“I don't either, you know that” he agrees solemnly. Mandalorians didn’t mess with kids, even those who had retired and removed their helmet.

“Trust me, this is no _kid_ ,” says Ja’ar seriously. “It's an ex-rebel dropper, been off the grid for a long time, finally popped back up on the grid a few weeks ago.”

Din felt like he might be sick. _He must be mistaken; it had to be someone else._

“A dropper? I thought they were all dead. I’m not in the business of chasing ghosts.” He hopes he’s coming off as convincing with how hard his pulse is rushing in his ears.

“That’s almost true. There were only about five surviving after the charter was signed and they were later all reported dead, except for one. This one was the worst of the whole lot. And a woman at that……”

_Shit. Fucking shit. Fuck._

“Her last name is Dune, first name Carasynthia. This is her, don’t let her pretty face fool you.” Ja’ar holds up a holoscreen with an image that makes his heart flutter just looking at it. _It’s only been a few hours since he saw her. He was acting ridiculous. He was no love-sick fool. He used to be better at lying to himself too._

The woman looking into the camera is Cara all right, but she’s so young. Her face is rounder and the tattoo on her cheek is absent. This must have been taken the first day or two after she enlisted, based on her timeline of when she got her ink.

Her dark hair was shorter and pulled back on both sides and she looked ready for a fight. _She looked like his Cara, how she loved a good fight -the first thing that drew him to her_. Her mouth was drawn into a tight line and her eyes were piercing and serious, a sure sign she was ill at ease. The olive-green jumpsuit she wore had the rebel insignia on the chest and she had it zipped lower than was regulation.

_Because of course she did._

She looked so like herself that he almost found himself chuckling. _He needed a copy of this picture._

Ja’ar laughs at how still Din has become, almost frozen in place.

“I warned you boy, don’t get distracted by her face.”

“Don’t be fooled,” he continued, “She’s a real bitch. She doesn’t have an ounce of warmth or humanity in her, she’s as cold as ice; heartless and cruel. She was merciless in killing Imps, whole squadrons at a time, and her kill rates put her on the Imperial wanted list within months of enlistment. On the battlefield she was ruthless and vengeful, a real force to be reckoned with. Even the Rebels she sided with couldn’t keep her reined in.”

“Why the bounty then?” Din asks, “lots of soldiers were good fighters.”

“It was what she did after the war that’s the problem. She’s a traitor, she left the rebellion as soon as the fighting was over and went rogue. She was conniving and treacherous and used her knowledge of the Rebellion’s intelligence to fuel her own agenda. Not only was she a traitor, she was a coward. She ran from justice, has been running for years.

“But I think you already knew all of this. You know her don’t you, Din? I know you’ve met her.”

“I have no clue who you’re talking about.” _Fuck._

“Really?” he asks suspiciously, “there was a rumor about an old outpost burning to the ground a few weeks or so ago. There were whole platoons of Imperial sympathizers killed, mowed down execution style, the building burned to the ground.

“Din, security images tied you to the scene. I’d recognize your helmet anywhere, though the armor has obviously changed since I last saw you. They also tied her there. You want to try again and tell me how you don't know her?”

He keeps pushing, “I don’t understand your hesitation here. I'm talking about bringing in more money than you've ever seen. You could by a fleet of 5 Razor Crests, and a Leisure Cruiser- a full sized one. You could buy a winter home on a desert planet and a summer home in the jungle, with piles of money left to burn.

“I'm not having this conversation. The answer is no, I’m not taking that bounty.”

“Be reasonable. Think of how much Beskar you could buy to give back to the Clan, the foundlings....I know you're tempted. You wouldn't have to sell her to the Empire either if you’re feeling guilty about them executing her. The Rebellion, excuse me, ‘ _The Republic_ ’, would pay top dollar too. They want to use her to set an example for other war criminals. They’d probably keep her alive to show the benefits of the prison system and brag to everyone who’ll listen about how they captured her themselves. You could even start a bidding war and jack up the price if you wanted to. They’d pay whatever you asked, this is how bad they want her.”

Din couldn’t hold his tongue any longer before he angrily lets slip, “she's not a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder.”

“No one is _selling_ anything. I thought you were in the business of bringing in criminals for pay, or did the definition of a _bounty hunter_ change in the last few years?”

“She's not a criminal.” Din realizes he’s losing control of this conversation.

“So, you _do_ know her?”

“You should know better than to listen to rumors. People get hurt listening to rumors”

“So, you _do_ know her? You wouldn’t sound so defensive if you didn’t.”

“I know she's not a deserter and definitely not a coward.” _Cara was no coward; she was strong and fierce and honest and magnificent._

“Just admit that you know her Din.”

“We met at the outpost. I don’t know where she went after that. We’re not friends.” _Technically, he was telling the truth; however, the outpost they met at was on Sorgan and they were now something much deeper, more meaningful than friends._ He paused and took a breath, leaning in closer to Ja’ar, “look, I'm giving you a warning out of respect for the friendship you had with my Buir: Drop This. Let it go if you know what’s good for you. If you go after her you won't like the outcome.”

“Oh my god, you're fucking her. Can’t say I blame you”

He refused to let himself take the bait. _Remain calm._

_Their slow, cautious, yet joyful exploration of physical intimacy between them was the most beautiful thing he had ever experienced, and they hadn’t even made love yet. It made him sick to hear someone speak of her in such a vulgar way. She’d probably sweep his legs and land him on the floor if she knew how protective his thoughts had turned just now._

“What? You met her one time, got in her pants, and now you think you know her? She probably just said what you wanted to hear to get what she wanted from you. You must have some clue where she might be going next.”

“I’m serious, no one's turning her over; not me, and certainly not you.”

“By the stars Din! Don't tell me you’re in love with this girl! I figured you knew better than to fall for a pretty face and nice pair of tits.”

_Gods above, even on random shithole planets Cara’s gorgeous breasts found a way to catch up with him. It would be funny as hell if he wasn’t approaching slight panic mode. She’ll appreciate the story later in their bunk. He can already hear her laugh._

“She's playing you, Din.”

He repeats calmly one more time, “if you know what's good for you, you'll let this one go. I mean it. I'll give you money or your pick of this Beskar I’m wearing if that's what it takes to make you forget you ever heard of her.”

He looks genuinely surprised. “If you’re asking me as the son of my brother and my friend, you have my word I'll let it go. If you’re asking me from a business perspective, you know I can't.”

“I’m asking you as your brother’s son.”

“Then consider it forgotten. But I hope you know what you’re giving up for a stranger you met once who happened to have a pretty face.”

_He’s never given up anything with Cara. In fact, he’s gained everything._

Ja’ar finishes by saying, “just because I won't pursue this lead, doesn't mean there aren't others looking for a payout. If you know where she’s hiding out, then someone else does too. It’s only a matter of time kid, and you could make payday if you got to her first.”

“I truly pity anyone who tries to capture her. I'll leave it at that.” _The rain of shit that would come down on them….. She certainly wouldn’t go easily. He wouldn’t let them anywhere near her so it would never come to that point anyway._

“We’re done talking about Cara,” he said in a firm voice he wasn’t even sure he possessed before this moment. “I came here because I was hoping you had some intel on a species.

“Have you ever heard of _this_ species before, I have a picture.” He pulls up an image on his personal holoscreen before cropping Cara mostly out of it. The image he turns around for Ja’ar to see is the small face of the kid, his large eyes the center of the image and his soft ears on display taking up the rest of the screen.

“By the stars, I haven’t seen one of his kind in ages.”

Din’s heart stops beating. “You know something about them?”

"Not personally, but I’ve looked through files from the Old Republic and there was a Jedi who was the spitting image of that little fella you just showed me. He was the most powerful Jedi that ever lived if memory serves me. You don’t forget something like that. Just how are you wrapped up in all this Din?”

“He’s my foundling, my Clan. I’m trying to find out where he came from. Listen, Ja’ar, you have to forget you ever saw me or the image I just showed you. It seems like the whole damned Empire is after this kid and I don’t want you to get involved.”

He nods, his face wrinkling in a half-smile. “I’ve already forgotten you were ever here.”

“I must return soon, but it has been good to see you. I’ll keep in touch. Thank you for your help and take care of yourself.”

“Take care of yourself too kid, not to mention the foundling I’ve already forgotten about.”

“Foundlings are the future,” Din says automatically.

“This is the way,” Ja’ar says as smoothly as though the phrase is one he still says on a daily basis. There are no other Mandalorians on this planet and he no longer wears his helmet, but some things never change…..

“This is the way,” Din repeats solemnly, _though_ _it’s not_ _like he really needs a reminder of how precious the kid is._

…………………….

His thoughts are all over the place as he returns to the Razor Crest via the open market. What is he supposed to tell Cara without scaring the hell out of her? _Scratch that_ \-- _he can’t imagine his glorious, brave, tough Cara ever being scared; she’d be slightly alarmed at best, mostly annoyed-then she’ll crack a joke about it_. She had believed she was completely off the grid, finally free, and now he had to tell her otherwise.

He knows her, knows her heart, her kindness, her strength, her selflessness, her sense of what’s right. She would defend the weak with a ferocity that would frighten most people, but she was _good_. He knew her nightmares and her worries and her fears. They spoke of their pasts and their regrets face-to-face in the dark quiet of their bunk and he knew her better than he knew himself at times. Hearing the words used to cruelly describe her had bothered him more than he would ever have let on. Is this really how the Rebellion she had fought and bled for painted her in the public eye? They described someone who fought for their freedom as a monster? She sacrificed everything she had for them, _she frequently described herself as broken after the war,_ and this is how they repay her?

He felt betrayed on her behalf, even if she didn’t feel it herself. The Empire at least had a reason to hate and fear her given how many of them she wiped out. He couldn’t summon an ounce of pity for them though, those bastards had every bit of it coming, and more.

As distracted as he was, he rapidly forgot about everything that wasn’t the sudden rain of blasterfire coming at him from the roof of the closest building. He raised his right arm to shoot them down, just as he noticed his ribs felt suddenly tight. He ended up having to finish the fight with the blaster in his left hand instead. At least he was a decent shot from either side. _Just another day at work…..though it was getting tedious being shot at every time his feet touched terra firma._

It turns out Cara took the news better than he thought.

Din reluctantly explains, “your chain code must have been scanned somewhere, the images couldn’t have been enough to tip them off. I'm sorry, I thought we were doing good at staying under the radar.”

“It was only a matter of time to be honest,” she says, “I've been running for so long I can't remember a time when I wasn’t. It was bound to catch up to me at some point. My only regret is that you and kid are caught up in it now. You’re harboring a fugitive now. How does it feel? Dangerous, exciting?”

“Don’t joke about this Cara. This is serious. I know you’re worried, you don’t have to say it out loud. I won't let them take you. I promise you. And before you open your mouth to argue, I know you don’t need anyone to come to your rescue.”

He could see the wheels turning in her head. She took a long time to respond. Whatever was running through her head, it was serious. “Maybe you should turn me in _yourself_ , take the payday, and then help me break out. .... that way everybody wins”

_He gets angry at that. Can’t she see how upset he is by this bounty bullshit and she’s making ill-humored jokes?_

“Shut up, that isn’t remotely funny! Don't even joke about that. What if they executed you on site? What the hell, Cara?”

“I’m not joking Din. At least I’d be helping you and the kid, not to mention going in under my own terms. I can’t run from my mistakes forever, despite what I might say. Isn’t it being a good example to Bean to turn myself in and atone for what I did? It’s a bonus that you can get enough money out of the deal to take care of you and the kid for the next 20 years.” She continues, “if it makes you feel better about it, I have no doubt you could bust me out of prison, I wouldn’t rot in there forever.”

“Shut up! I’m serious Carasynthia! We are not even talking about this. I just wanted to remind us both that people are after all 3 of us. We need to be extra careful until this dies down, and it will die down, I’m sure of it.

“Fine!” she hisses at the use of that 5 syllable word, “but this conversation isn’t over. I’m letting it drop because I can see you’re pissed off enough to use _that dumb name_ , that’s the only reason.”

She takes a few calming breaths, _they both do_.

She changes the subject. “How was your Father’s brother? Can I just call him your uncle, or is that not the right word?”  
  


“We don’t really have a word for that, but that’s what you’d call it in Basic, yes. He was okay, still as strait-laced and no-nonsense as I remember him. I don’t mean to say he was cold, but just practical. He hugged me- I can’t remember the last time another Mandalorian embraced me. It was weird, but it felt nice to see him again.

“It’s strange watching him age. As a boy he always seemed so invincible, just like my Buir and the elders of the clan.”

He pauses and takes a sip of the drink Cara had placed in front of him as a peace offering. The flexible reusable straw sticking out the top of it meant they could relax at the end of the day and share a drink. It had become a part of their nightly routine weeks ago. He couldn’t remember anyone ever getting him a more thoughtful gift, something that made him feel totally ordinary and so wanted at the same time. It had been a two-pack and he kept the other one in his utility belt, just in case.

“When was it you saw him last?” Cara asked him.

  
“When I was late-ish 20s. My Buir had just died and he came to pay his respects. We had drifted apart and I felt guilty I hadn’t returned home in some time.”

  
“That's normal, all kids do that, it's part of growing up and discovering yourself and your identity. You shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”

  
“Did you grow apart from your parents t---?”  
He froze and then rapidly backtracked as he realized in horror what he just said. Of course she didn’t drift away from her parents, they were killed when her planet was-- .

“I didn't mean,” he rushed out, wishing he could take back his words. “I'm so sorry.”

  
She lets out a little laugh. “Don't worry, I know what you mean. You don't have to walk on eggshells around me mentioning my life before.... _you know_.”

She laughs a sad laugh at herself then, “I guess I'm not doing a great job of convincing you to speak freely if I can't even say its name out loud from my own mouth. You can mention….. _Alderaan_. It’s nice talking about it with you. I wish you could have seen it, the little nugget too. He would have loved it.

“To answer your question, Yes I _had_ grown apart from them. Why don’t you take a minute to imagine me as an angsty rebellious teenager?” They both laugh then.

“They must have had the patience of saints,” he even manages to tease, when it’s clear she’s not upset by the topic like he feared she would be. She’s even smiling, it’s nice.

  
Once the laughter naturally peters out, he remembers something that would make her smile. _Well, smile and then probably punch him in the face._

“I forgot to tell you something else, don’t be mad.”

“What am I not getting mad about?”

“I got shot.”

“What!!?” she yells as she jumps out of her chair

“Are you shitting me? Where?”

Din starts to manage a standing position as he says, “go on, say ‘I told you so’”.

“I’m not going to _say,_ ‘I told you so,’” she says, “but I’m sure as hell going to _think_ it hard enough, you’ll hear it anyway.”

Cara moves to him and starts looking him over, hands everywhere. He’s trying to focus on something, and his eyes fall on the soft velvety texture of her soft black shirt.

“It’s here,” he states as he lifts his arm to show her the side of his ribcage. She’s sitting him right back down again as she grabs a hold of his left vambrace, pushing the buttons in the right order to start releasing the largest front and back plate. She swats his hand away when he tries to help, since she now knows the controls as well as he does and which buttons to push in the right order to uncover what she wants.

By the time she peels the vest, and padded shirt away, he’s slightly grimacing. She begins to peel his jumpsuit down his arms so she can get to his chest, when he says, “that hurts, aren’t you going to try to distract me first?”

She pauses, lets her hands drop from his sleeves with a grin, and quickly peels her own shirt up over her head in one smooth motion, her lightweight black cotton bra framing her ample cleavage is the only thing he can focus on now. “Better?”

“So much better. I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” She can practically hear the smile in his voice through his voice modulator.

“Good, because this is going to hurt like a bitch where the fabric is stuck. Sorry.”

Hours later they’re flipping through files of potential small jobs they’re considering when she sees him wince and favor his side again.

“It’s probably time to change the gauze again, it’s must be drying out by now,” she suggests. The wound wasn’t bad, the vest and padding took the worst of it. The burn was mostly superficial, but it was seeping copious clear fluid.

“Ugghh, fine,” he says. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“You must always be in a constant state of hatred then….”  
  


She’s just standing there waiting……

When he doesn’t move, she looks right at him and simply says “go on, strip.”

“Whatever happened to buying me dinner first?, _stars_ Cara.”

“We had dinner last night, actually I _made_ you dinner last night.” 

“What about a little romance then. I don’t just strip on command.”

“You’re trying to distract me from changing that dressing, aren’t you?” she asks with a knowing smirk.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he deadpans.

  
“Take off your pants then, and I'll show you this _romance_ you’re looking for.” She says as suggestively as she can over the actual worry for his injury.

“I'm already losing enough blood as is. If you want any to stay in my brain and not end up elsewhere, you should probably take it down a notch; unless that’s what you’re going for, then by all means keep talking like that.”

“You admitting defeat Mando?” _She’s getting surprisingly turned on by this. She’s not sure she ever remembers him saying anything as overtly suggestive before._

“Gladly. I'm happy with you coming out on top whenever you want.”

  
_“Chirp, chirp”_

They hear the sleepy chirps before they see him. They both look down at the kid with his little arms up, waiting patiently. She scoops him up and hands him to Din to hold on his good side.

“You coming to your dad’s rescue little guy?” He just smiles up at her and raises his ears at her closeness. She turns her head to look straight through Din’s visor and simply states “don't think I don’t owe you a fist to the face for getting shot, I’m so going to get you later.”

“I’ll put the kid down right now, no use postponing the inevitable. Is there anything I can do to get myself out of it?”

“I doubt it, but you’re more than welcome to try. I’ll be waiting for you in bed.” She had already turned her back to him, but he could picture her smile as clear as day.

The rumors surrounding the kid’s people and Cara’s bounty on her head could wait until the morning. It was good to be home. It was a concept he was rapidly getting accustomed to and he wouldn’t let anything ruin that for him right now. The three of them were here, everything else could wait.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all! I loved writing this even though it got away from me.  
> Drop me a comment if you liked it. They really make my day :)
> 
> Thanks to my friends on here who are a continuous source of encouragement. and littlejoregal for catching my many typos.  
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed reading it even a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


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